


After Happily Ever After

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Happily Ever After turns out to be the worst thing that ever happened to you?<br/>A story about second chances, love and friendship.<br/>And Quatre Winner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is not my fault. I didn’t want to write. I absolutely do NOT want to write a fic with Quatre Winner as the main character but… I have to.   
Warnings: Language, angst (I mean, duh), sex  
Pairings: 3x4, 2x3, 1x4

After Happily Ever After

Chapter One: Prologue

“How do you know this guy again?” Heero asked Duo as they sat down on the well worn wooden pew.  
Duo shrugged one shoulder.  
“He gets coffee at the same place I do.”  
Heero arched an eyebrow.  
“And he invited you to his wedding? Because you get coffee together?”  
Duo looked defensive.  
“Yeah. Sort of.”  
Sort of. It was what Duo said when he wanted to lie but knew he shouldn’t even bother trying because he was a terrible liar.  
Heero sighed. In the end, he supposed, it didn’t really matter how Duo knew the groom - Heero had agreed to be his date for this wedding and that was all there was to it. Since Duo had promised to cover him the next time Heero wanted to take a shift off at the hospital, Heero figured it was a fair trade. He spent an hour sitting in a church wearing a suit and got twelve free hours out of the bargain.  
An organ started to play and a tall, handsome man started to walk down the aisle by himself.  
“That’s him,” Duo nudged Heero in the ribs. “That’s Trowa.”  
Heero nodded.  
Trowa was lean, with auburn hair and sharp, well-defined features and intense green eyes. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit that fit his frame well.  
He looked like exactly the type of guy Duo was always throwing himself out - handsome, likely dull as dirt and shockingly superficial.   
Heero glanced over at Duo and wasn’t surprised to see his gaze riveted on Trowa.  
He rolled his eyes and nudged him.  
“Stop mentally undressing him. He’s about to get married. To someone else.”  
Duo looked offended.  
“I wasn’t mentally undressing him,” he argued. “I was just - I was just thinking.”  
Heero snorted.  
“You were thinking about him. Naked.”  
Duo glared.  
The music changed its tone and another man walked down the aisle.   
He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man Heero had ever seen. He was very fair, with blonde hair so light it was nearly white and greenish-blue eyes that seemed impossibly large and filled with happiness as he looked ahead of him, towards the altar and his future husband.  
Heero watched him stand beside Trowa, watched the taller man take his hands and watched as the blonde smiled up at him, a smile so wide and full of love that Heero felt his own heart beat erratically in response.  
The pastor began to speak, reciting a passage from the Bible and beside Heero, Duo squirmed in his seat.  
“It’s a wedding. In a church. You had to know there would be religion involved,” Heero said in a low voice.  
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Duo muttered back.  
Heero sighed.  
“Just… tolerate it for the sake of your coffee friend.”  
Duo shook his head but leaned back against the pew and folded his hands in his lap. Heero wondered if he was mentally counting down until the end of the ceremony. And he wondered, yet again, why they were here.  
The pastor finished his recitation and turned to the blonde.  
“Quatre Winner will you into Trowa Barton’s eyes, and into his heart and repeat after me? I commit my life to our partnership in marriage. I promise to comfort you, to encourage you in all walks of life. I promise to express my thoughts and emotions to you and to listen to you in times of joy and in times of sorrow. Trowa Barton, I love you, and you are my closest friend. Will you let me share my life and all that I am with you?”  
Quatre smiled again and drew in a deep breath.  
“I commit my life to our partnership in marriage. I promise to comfort you, to encourage you -”  
“Wait!”  
Heero frowned at the interruption and wondered who the hell - oh no.  
Beside him, Duo was standing up, hands gripping the back of the pew in front of him, a desperate look on his face.  
“Aren’t you supposed to ask if anyone has any objections?” Duo called out.  
No, Heero reached out to tug him back down into his seat but Duo batted his hand away.  
Quatre was staring in open mouthed shock and Trowa… Trowa was looking at Duo like a man in the desert looked at an oasis.  
“I object,” Duo continued, not waiting for an answer. He pushed past Heero and down the rest of the pew until he was standing in the aisle.   
Heero sank down in his seat.  
This could not be happening. It was like some scene from a movie or television or - or anything but reality.  
“Please,” Duo said, the desperation on his face translating to his voice. “Trowa. I love you. This last month has been… the worst of my life. Please, please let me spend every day telling you how much I love you. Let me wake up beside you and go to bed beside you. Let me listen to your terrible music and I swear I’ll love every second of it because it’s your music. Let me watch the Discovery Channel with you and I promise I’ll stop making fun of the narrators. Let me - let me share your life. Let me make you happy. I know - I know this is crazy. I know you had this plan for your life and I’m not part of that plan, but I love you.”  
The church was absolutely silent.  
Duo looked at Trowa, his heart in his eyes and Trowa looked from Duo to Quatre.  
“I’m so sorry,” he told Quatre and then he walked towards Duo.  
Duo smiled, the kind of broad smile of triumph he wore whenever he did something miraculous, and he walked towards Trowa, meeting him halfway and wrapping his arms around him and kissing him.  
No one clapped or cheered - this wasn’t, after all, a movie.  
Instead, Duo and Trowa pulled away, still smiling at each other, and seemed to realize what they had just done.  
“Er…” Duo looked around. “Maybe we should just… go?” He suggested to Trowa.  
Trowa looked back up at Quatre, but then he nodded and the two men clasped hands and walked out of the church.  
The silence only lasted until their exit - as soon as they walked out the crowd erupted in whispers.  
Heero watched people start to awkwardly file out of the church, but he couldn’t move. He was too busy watching Quatre.  
The blonde man looked devastated, as if the love of his life had just left him at the altar for another man.   
Two blonde women who bore a family resemblance joined him on the altar, taking his arms and trying to lead him away, but Quatre remained standing and staring at the doors as his happily ever after walked away with someone else.

-o-  
TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is not my fault. I didn’t want to write. I absolutely do NOT want to write a fic with Quatre Winner as the main character but… I have to.   
I figure, I might as well enjoy this and take this opportunity to use all those cliche romantic moments that I can’t really work into most of the things I write. So… be warned about those too.  
Warnings: Language, angst (I mean, duh), sexy times and sexy words  
Pairings: past 3x4, 2x3, 1x4

After Happily Ever After

Chapter Two  
One Year Later

 

Eric’s large cock twitched and he moaned, staring down at the engorged member with wide eyes. A slick, pearlescent bead of precum sat on the tip, a tiny, shiny crown on the wide head.  
“What sorcery is this?” Eric demanded and gasped at the sound of his own voice - thick and hoarse with need.  
In front of him, the red haired man smirked. He held out his arms and the front of his velvet robe opened, displaying a long, delicately curved cock.  
Eric licked his lips at the sight. It was a beautiful cock, red and pulsing with strength.  
“This?” The red haired man asked. “This is the only sorcery any man ever need master.”  
The red haired man stroked himself, his long fingers wrapping around the shaft and pulling hard, his grip unmerciful even on himself.  
Eric moaned and the man’s hips quivered, as if the sounds from Eric’s throat made him unsteady.  
“Please,” Eric begged, although he had no idea what he was begging for.  
The red haired man arched an eyebrow, smirk still on his face, but he stepped closer.  
He stopped just in front of Eric, looking down at him as he knelt, his hands and feet still tied behind him, and Eric had never felt more overwhelmed.  
“Please what?” The man asked, shifting forward, letting his cock stroke Eric’s jaw, his lips.  
Eric leaned into the touch. It felt like a caress, the silken shaft so smooth and firm, and it had been so long since he had been touched.  
The cock slid along his lips and Eric opened his mouth instinctively.  
He 

“Quatre?”  
Alarmed, Quatre Winner slammed his laptop closed before bothering to save the document. He glared at the open door to his office.  
Relena Peacecraft stood there, a curious expression on her face as she took in Quatre, the hastily closed laptop, and the blush on his face.  
“Ummm.”  
“Don’t you know how to knock?” Quatre hissed.  
“Well, your office door was open, so I kind of assumed I could walk in and ask for help when I needed it,” she shot back, not in the least intimidated by his anger or embarrassment.  
Quatre sighed. She was right. He had left his door open - and she could walk in and ask for help when she needed it.  
“Sorry. You’re right. What did you need help with?”  
“A customer.”  
Quatre arched an eyebrow.  
Relena sighed.  
“He wants some book - the computer says we have it in stock but I can’t find it anywhere and he won’t give up on it.” Relena pouted. “I even tried to flirt with him but he doesn’t care at all.”  
She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder and Quatre chuckled. The man must truly be on a mission if he was able to ignore Relena’s charms.  
Quatre was gay, but even he could admire Relena, from a purely aesthetic perspective.  
“What book?” He asked and stood up.  
Rashid, sprawled on the floor soaking up the last of the afternoon sun, lifted his shaggy head, intelligent eyes following Quatre’s movements.  
“A Canticle for Leibowitz,” Relena said.  
“Did you check the science fiction section?” Quatre asked her. He started to walk out of the room and Rashid jumped up to follow him, the huge Bouvier des Flanders brushing past Relena and almost knocking her over in his eagerness to keep pace with his master.  
“Yes,” Relena told him. “I’m not a complete idiot.”  
He looked over his shoulder to smirk at her and she rolled her eyes.  
However, fate clearly wanted to make a point and punished him for teasing her. He ran into something very firm and very warm.  
Stumbling backwards he almost fell but a strong hand around his right bicep kept him upright.  
The hand, and the very firm and very warm body attached to it, belonged to a man. A handsome man with exotic features and golden skin. He was Quatre’s height, but broader and clearly worked out - and clearly knew how incredibly good looking he was. His dark blue eyes looked at Quatre with amusement.  
“Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine,” Quatre assured him and pulled away from his hand.  
Rashid pushed between them and, before Quatre or the stranger could react, jumped up to stand on his hind legs and started licking the man’s face.  
The man let out a startled laugh, but made no move to push away the dog.  
Quatre frowned.  
For the last six years, Rashid had shown absolutely zero interest in the customers who came into the bookstore - he was notorious for ignoring everyone except for Quatre. He let people pet him, even obligingly rolling over so they could scratch his belly, but otherwise did not seek out their attention.  
“Rashid.” Quatre pulled him off of the man. “Sorry,” he told him.  
“No, it’s okay.” The man’s voice was a rich baritone. He wiped some of the slobber from his face with the back of his hand.  
Quatre glanced around the store. It was empty except for Relena, standing beside him with a wide grin on her face, the handsome man, and Wufei Chang. Chang was a professor at the local university and had been coming here for the last four years every afternoon, sitting in the leather armchair over by the fireplace and the coffee station and grading his papers, reading the newspaper, or otherwise simply sitting there. He bought one book every week, usually on Friday nights, but seemed to have adopted the bookstore as a kind of study.  
Quatre turned back to the man.  
“Were you looking for A Canticle for Leibowitz?” He asked.  
The man nodded.  
That surprised Quatre. In his experience, ridiculously handsome men with Sports Illustrated worthy bodies didn’t usually read hardcore science fiction. He instantly regretted his thoughts - who was he to judge someone else’s reading material? If a hot guy wanted to read science fiction and was a closet nerd, well, it was unfair, but it was allowed.  
Quatre let go of Rashid.  
“Relena said you already checked the science fiction section. I know we have a copy… just give me a moment to track it down.”  
The man nodded and trailed after Quatre and Rashid and Quatre prowled the aisles of the store in search of the book.  
He eventually found it, fifteen minutes later, under philosophy and religion and sighed. He remembered why it was there.  
Trowa had put it there, jokingly, because of the setting and his own belief that if more people treated religion the same way the book did, the world would be a better place.  
Quatre realized that the book must have been there for over a year - and he made a mental note to reshelve things soon. Who knew what else might be in the wrong place.  
He forced himself to put thoughts and memories of Trowa to the back of his mind and gave the book to the customer.  
“Here you are. Sorry, someone must have misplaced it.”  
The man accepted it.  
“Thank you - I appreciate you taking the time to track it down.”  
Quatre shrugged.  
“Just doing my job.”  
“Still, you could have just brushed me off. Is the manager around? I’d like someone to know how helpful you’ve been.”  
“I’m the owner, actually,” Quatre told him.  
“Oh - well, thank you.” The man smiled, a slight curl of his lips that made Quatre’s heart beat faster.  
“It was no problem, really,” Quatre assured him. He gestured towards the front of the store. “Relena can you check you out whenever you’re ready.”  
The man snorted a laugh.  
“I think she already checked me out earlier.”  
Quatre had to laugh at that. He had no doubt that Relena had taken her time to ogle the handsome man. She was notorious for throwing herself at guys, especially ones who weren’t interested in her.  
Rashid nudged the man’s leg and the reached down to pet him.  
“Yours?”  
“Yes - sorry again about him throwing himself at you.”  
“It’s fine. I like dogs, I’ve just never been able to get one.”  
Rashid flopped down and rolled over onto his belly, waving his paws in the air until the man chuckled and crouched down to rub him.  
Quatre felt very jealous of Rashid. He wouldn’t mind having those long fingered hands rubbing him while he writhed on the floor.  
The erotic thought startled him. Where had that even come from? Yes, the customer was attractive - very, very attractive - but Quatre had encountered attractive men before and not started fantasizing about them before he even knew their name.  
Relena would probably tell him it was because he needed to get laid - and while he agreed with her on some level, he also didn’t see that happening anytime soon. He wasn’t into one night stands, and he definitely wasn’t into relationships. Not after his last one had failed so spectacularly.   
Eventually, the man straightened up.  
“Thanks again,” he told Quatre and held up the book.  
Quatre nodded, yet again, and then watched the man walk up to the front. Rashid followed him.  
Rolling his eyes, Quatre trailed behind - it would be just his luck if Rashid decided to try to go home with the stranger.  
Relena rang in the book purchase and took his credit card.  
“Heero? What a perfect name.” She winked at the customer, who appeared on the verge of walking out without the book or his card.  
When her comment failed to win him over, Relena sighed, passed him a copy of the receipt and put the book in a bag.  
“Have a great day,” she said, boredom in her voice.   
Quatre wanted to laugh - Relena had always been spoiled, and always resented being ignored or overlooked.   
“Thank you,” Heero said. He started towards the door and Rashid followed him.  
Heero chuckled and gave Quatre a helpless look.  
Quatre found himself smiling at that. The man was ridiculously, unfairly handsome - but he looked adorable as well.  
Quatre walked over and took hold of Rashid’s collar.  
“Maybe we can arrange a date sometime? So I can see Rashid again,” Heero joked, his blue eyes warm.  
Quatre stared at him. Surely the man wasn’t -  
“Quatre is a much better conversationalist than Rashid,” Relena spoke up, appearing out of literally nowhere. “And I’m sure he wouldn’t mind it if you pet him either.”  
Quatre glared at her.  
“Relena. I think you should go refill the coffee,” he bit out.  
She rolled her eyes, muttered something about helpless, idiot men and walked away.  
“Sorry about her,” Quatre told Heero. “She’s a bit… much.”  
Heero nodded in agreement, but he didn’t seem to be in a particular hurry to leave.  
Quatre frowned. Surely Heero had been joking, about arranging a date?  
Relena was back again, just as suddenly as the first time, and she thrust a piece of paper at Heero.  
“Here’s his number. He doesn’t understand that you think he’s hot and want to go on a date with him.”  
“He - You -” Quatre reached for the piece of paper, but Heero folded it up.  
“If you aren’t interested, I won’t call you,” Heero said and held it out, offering it back to Quatre. “But I would like to take you out. On a date - with or without Rashid.”  
Quatre stared at Heero. Relena stared at Quatre.  
“Ah, thanks,” Quatre eventually said. He made no move to take back the number, and Heero put it in his pocket and left.  
As soon as he was gone, Quatre turned on Relena.  
“What is wrong with you?” He demanded.  
“What is wrong with you?” She snapped back. “Some hottie wants to ask you out and all you did was stare at him and let your dog molest him!”  
“He - he just wanted to get a damn book!”  
“Yeah, and stare at your ass while you looked for it.”  
Quatre arched an eyebrow.  
“He was probably just looking at the bookshelves.”  
“No, he wasn’t.” Relena crossed her arms. “He was checking out your ass.”  
“Even if he was - I do not need you to give out my number to people!”  
She rolled her eyes.  
“Quatre, when is the last time you went out on a date?”  
“When you tried to set me up with your brother,” he growled at her. “Which is why I don’t need you to try to set me up with anyone else - it was a disaster!”  
“It was also nine months ago! I can’t believe you haven’t been out with anyone since then!” She sighed and shook her head. “Actually, I can. Quatre. You need to get out there and move on."  
Quatre arched an eyebrow.  
"Explain to me how exactly I'm supposed to move on from the love of my life leaving me at the altar on our wedding day."  
Relena sighed.  
“I don’t know, Quatre. I really don’t. And I know I can say it was a year ago and it’s time to get on with your life and that doesn’t mean much because I’m not you and it didn’t happen to me. But maybe… just maybe you’re allowed to hope that the hot Heero calls you. You’re allowed to still believe in romance, Quatre.”  
He snorted derisively.  
“I’d rather not believe in romance. The only thing romance has proven is that there is no such thing as happily ever after.”

-o-  
TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This is not my fault. I didn’t want to write. I absolutely do NOT want to write a fic with Quatre Winner as the main character but… I have to.   
I figure, I might as well enjoy this and take this opportunity to use all those cliche romantic moments that I can’t really work into most of the things I write. So… be warned about those too.  
Warnings: Language, angst (I mean, duh), sexy times and sexy words  
Pairings: past 3x4, 2x3, 1x4

After Happily Ever After  
Chapter Three

“You should come with us.”  
Heero arched an eyebrow at the offer and looked at his best friend.  
Duo was in the process of changing out of his scrubs and back into street clothes. He hadn’t pulled on his sweater yet, and his bare torso, as usual, invited stares from the others in the changing room.  
And Duo, as usual, completely ignored them. After all, he had had years of people staring at his tattoos and his hair and making snide remarks under their breath about him.  
Heero could see why so many of their colleagues regarded Duo with raised eyebrows - he sure as hell didn’t look like a cardiothoracic surgeon and even less like someone who wanted to specialize in pediatric surgery, but that didn’t change the fact that he was brilliant and worked his ass off every hour of every day.  
“No thanks,” Heero told him.  
It was Duo’s turn to arch an eyebrow when after his head emerged from his sweater.  
“Why not? I checked the schedule - you’ve got the next two days off as well. Come on. Tro and I got this great little cabin right by the slope. The snow has been perfect his year and it’ll be good for you to get away from here for a few days and relax.”  
“I can’t,” Heero hesitated and Duo was instantly on alert. Damnit. Duo knew him too well.  
“You can’t because…” Duo trailed off and then a wide grin split his face. “Because you’ve got a date? Because you’re going to spend the next forty eight hours fucking the brains out of some gorgeous guy? Come on, who is it?”  
Heero could only glare.  
“I’ve only just met him - this is our first date. I’m not going to spend the next forty-eight hours fucking his brains out.”  
“Shame. You could use it.”  
Heero took a swing at Duo, but the other man easily blocked it and grinned at him.  
“Getting slow, old man.”  
Heero rolled his eyes.  
“I’m three months older than you, Duo.”  
“I know. Scary to think what old age has in store for me.”  
They finished dressing in silence and then walked out of the hospital together. Heero waited for Duo to check on one his patients one last time - an eight year old heart transplant case recovering in the ICU - before they headed to the bar two blocks from the hospital.  
“So… who is he? How’d you meet?”  
Duo had waited until they were at the bar and nursing beers before asking, and Heero was actually impressed by his self-control.   
“We met at the bookstore - when you asked me got get that book for you last week.”  
Duo nodded, his face curiously neutral.  
“And?”  
“And… I got his number and we’re going out tomorrow night.”  
Heero knew he didn’t have the best “people skills” and had been beyond relieved when the annoying blonde girl had given him Quatre’s phone number. But of course, when he actually sat down to call the handsome man, Heero had felt incredibly awkward. He wasn’t used to dating - Duo had been his wingman all through college, medical school, internships and residencies and now their fellowships and Heero realized that Quatre was the first guy he had ever asked out of a date that wasn’t pre-arranged by Duo.  
“Where ya taking him?”  
“That French place by the lake.”  
“Lac Lune?” Duo nodded. “Nice choice. Fancy, but a little casual… yeah. Good choice.”  
“I’m so glad I have your approval,” Heero growled and Duo ruffled his hair.  
“My little Heero, all grown up and going on dates on his own,” Duo sniffled against fake tears. “I’m just so proud.”  
“I’m just so tempted to break your fingers,” Heero muttered.  
Duo gave a gasp of outrage and held his hands against his chest.  
“You wouldn’t! Think of all the good I can do with these fingers!”  
Heero sighed.  
“Yeah, yeah, tell me about all of the little kids lives you’re going to save and -”  
“No, I was referring to all of the hand jobs I can give Trowa. If you break my fingers now, my technique -”  
Duo had to lean backwards to avoid Heero trying to push him off of his bar stool and instead fell off himself.   
Heero had to chuckle at him and Duo glared as he stood up and brushed himself off.  
“As I was saying -” Duo started, but was interrupted again.  
This time by the arrival of Trowa Barton, who walked up to Duo and draped an arm around his shoulders before pressing a kiss against the side of his forehead.  
Heero watched as Duo leaned against him, watched his smirk transform into a soft, contented smile and he marveled, not for the first time, at the two of them.  
When Duo had stood up in that church a year ago and begged Trowa to give him a chance, Heero had thought it would amount to a disastrous fling and Duo would realize what a complete asshole he had been and Trowa would drift away after the thrill of their somewhat illicit relationship wore off. To Heero’s great surprise, it hadn’t happened. Duo and Trowa seemed perfect to each other and Heero had quickly had to revise his initial impression of Trowa as incredibly good looking, superficial and dull. He was a veterinarian, and he had convinced Duo to move in with him after three months - a first for Duo, who had only ever had Heero as a roommate and never dated anyone long enough to even consider moving in with them - and he was damned intelligent. Heero had resented him at first, for months, until one night when the Heero had been invited over to their house for a cook-out and Duo had been called in to the hospital for an emergency. He and Trowa had spent three hours together and by the end of the night, Heero not only no longer resented him, he liked him and considered him a friend.  
But -  
Heero choked on his beer as he looked at the way Trowa looked down at Duo and he realized.  
Quatre. The handsome blonde from the bookstore - it was Quatre Winner. The man Trowa had left at the altar.  
Heero had thought he looked familiar, but couldn’t place him and, frankly, had been too distracted by his smile and his monstrously huge dog to think about it.  
“You okay?” Duo asked.  
“Yeah,” Heero assured him.  
“Long night?” Trowa asked and sat down at the bar on Duo’s other side, signalling the bartender to bring over another round.  
“Yeah, I had my transplant surgery tonight and Heero had - what was it? A hospice van was hit by a city bus?”  
Heero nodded. It had not been a particularly good night. He wasn’t used to having that many people die on him, but several of the elderly victims had been beyond saving.  
“I’m sorry,” Trowa said, his voice grave.  
Heero nodded in acceptance of his words.  
“How about you?” Duo asked. “Did you have to deliver that horse?”  
“The foal,” Trowa corrected softly, his lips curving into a smile. “I did - that’s why I was late. She’s beautiful.”  
“You think badgers are beautiful,” Duo muttered into his beer.  
Trowa rolled his eyes.  
“Anyway, she’s healthy and so is the mare.”  
“I was trying to get Heero to come with us to the mountains tomorrow,” Duo said, “but he’s got a date.”  
Trowa arched an eyebrow at him.  
“Good for you.”  
They didn’t normally talk about relationships - Heero had made it clear to Trowa very early on in his relationship to Duo that he didn’t approve of the way their relationship had began and had no interest in talking about his own love life with someone who would do that - but Trowa was usually supportive and less annoying than Duo.  
“Some guy he met at the bookstore when he picked up A Canticle for Leibowitz for me,” Duo continued.  
Trowa nodded, his expression thoughtful.  
“I hope it goes well,” Trowa said after a moment.  
Heero nodded in agreement - he did too.  
It would be his first date in almost a year, and it was with a man whose life his best friend had ruined.  
He wasn’t sure how it could go well, but he was certainly willing to give it a try if it meant the chance to see Quatre smile at him again.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is not my fault. I didn’t want to write. I absolutely do NOT want to write a fic with Quatre Winner as the main character but… I have to.   
I figure, I might as well enjoy this and take this opportunity to use all those cliche romantic moments that I can’t really work into most of the things I write. So… be warned about those too.  
Warnings: Language, angst (I mean, duh), sexy times and sexy words  
Pairings: past 3x4, 2x3, 1x4

After Happily Ever After  
Chapter Four

“What are you going to wear?”  
Quatre sighed and looked up.  
Relena stood in the doorway of his office. She looked at his desk, an eyebrow raised as she looked at his open laptop.   
Unlike the last time she had interrupted him, however, Quatre had been buried in paperwork and not writing porn.  
Quatre sighed and saved his files.  
“Does it matter?”  
Relena gaped at him.  
“Does it matter?”  
“Yes. Does it even matter. It’s just - “  
“It’s just your first date with a totally hot guy! Where is he taking you?”  
Quatre knew he shouldn’t have told Relena that Heero had called him. He had known it would result it this, but at the same time… he’d wanted to talk to someone about it. About his unease with the very idea of dating. Relena’s version of ‘comfort’ had involved her crossing her arms and telling him to either pick out a wedding ring for his right hand or put himself out there if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life getting himself off.  
“Lac Lune,” Quatre confessed when her glare didn’t relent.  
“Nice. Fancy but kind of casual...do you still have those gray trousers that look like they’re painted on? The ones Trowa didn’t like you to wear out in public?”  
Quatre frowned at the memories her words inspired. Iria, his oldest sister closest in age, liked to buy Quatre designer clothes when she travelled and had sent him the gray silk-wool blend trousers last year while in Paris. Each time Quatre put them on to go out, however, Trowa made him take them off - well, most of the time it was Trowa who took them off, peeling them down his thighs and sucking his cock and caressing his ass and insisting that they were too obscene, that no one else got to see just how perfect Quatre’s ass was except for him.  
“Yes,” Quatre finally said, forcing himself not to think of Trowa, of the way his green eyes would narrow and his lips would tilt upwards.  
“Hmmm. Do you have any v-neck sweaters? Oh - what about that teal one? It really brings out your eyes.”  
Quatre sighed. This felt ridiculous.  
“Relena.”  
“Quatre. Do you want to get fucked or not?”  
He blinked at her.  
“I’m not going to have sex with him on our first date!”  
Relena smirked and straightened up.  
“Oh, so you like him?”  
“What?”  
“If you didn’t like him you’d just blush and say something about me being annoying - but you like him and you don’t want this to be a one night stand.”  
Quatre closed his eyes and forced himself to draw in several deep breaths.  
“Relena. It’s just a date. He might not even be that interested in me.”  
“If I ever see Trowa Barton again - or that trashy bastard he ran off with - I’m going to punch him. Do you seriously not understand how awesome and how hot you are?”  
Quatre frowned.  
He knew, intellectually, that he was attractive. He saw guys - and a few girls - check him out at the grocery store, at the mall, at the gym - but that wasn’t what worried him.  
“Trowa and I were together for six years and he left me for some - trashy bastard. I get that I’m attractive, Relena, but if someone could love me for that long and leave me - like that - how am I supposed to just… try all of this again?”  
Relena sighed and walked into the office. She wrapped her arms around Quatre and he leaned against her.  
“Oh, Quatre. I’m going to punch them so hard.”  
He had to laugh at that. Relena was the girl who didn’t even like to kill bugs. Picturing her trying to punch either Trowa or his trashy bastard was a bit of a stretch.  
“Now. It’s almost six - you need to get out of here and get ready. I promise I won’t let the store burn down tonight.”  
Quatre nodded and stood up.  
Rashid eagerly jumped up and wagged his tail.  
Relena laughed.  
“How is this poor guy going to handle it? Home alone while you’re out having fun?”  
Quatre rolled his eyes and scratched Rashid’s ears.  
“He’ll be fine. I won’t even be out that late.”  
He debated whether or not to take Relena’s fashion advice, but in the end, he wore the gray trousers and the teal v-neck sweater and when Heero’s blue eyes locked onto him at the restaurant Quatre was glad that he had.   
Heero’s lips curved upward slightly into a sexy smirk that made Quatre blush.  
“It’s good to see you,” Heero said, and his tone his blue eyes turned the pleasantry into something more.  
“You too,” Quatre said. “You look great.” And he did - black trousers and a dark blue button up shirt, the top button undone to reveal a tantalizing triangle of pale golden skin.  
“Thank you,” Heero said and he sounded sincere, as though he wasn’t used to compliments on his appearance. “Shall we?” He gestured to the hostess and Quatre nodded.  
Their table was in the corner, the lighting low and romantic and Quatre tried not to be nervous, tried not to compare this to the romantic dinners he and Trowa had had over the years.  
A waiter came by for their drink orders.  
“Do you want to split a bottle of wine?” Quatre asked Heero.  
He shook his head in the negative.  
“Just water for me.”  
“Oh.” Quatre wondered if he didn’t drink - wondered if it was a religious thing or maybe he was a recovering alcoholic or -  
“I’m on call tonight,” Heero added. “But please - you should have wine.”  
“Can I have a glass of the Syrah? And water as well.”  
The waiter nodded and left.  
“On call?”  
“I’m a surgeon,” Heero said.  
“What kind of surgeon?” Quatre had to ask.  
“A trauma surgeon - I’m actually a surgical fellow at the hospital.”  
Quatre nodded and fought against the mental image of Heero in scrubs. He had to look ridiculously sexy in scrubs. And a lab coat…  
“That’s amazing,” Quatre had to say.  
Heero looked uncomfortable with the praise.  
“I’m sure owning a bookstore is very interesting,” he said and Quatre had to laugh.  
“Not as interesting as saving lives!”  
“Still. Do you love it?”  
Quatre had to nod enthusiastically and Heero smiled.  
“Then it’s perfect for you.”  
Quatre smiled back at him.  
“So, when you aren’t saving lives, what do you do?”  
“Sleep,” Heero admitted and then he shook his head. “Sorry - I’m not very interesting. We work long shifts at the hospital and,” he shrugged, “I’m not very social.”  
Quatre nodded.  
“I can imagine - the long hours part,” he hastily added. “You seem perfectly social to me.”  
Heero smiled slightly.  
“I think that’s more your doing than anything else.”  
Quatre felt himself blush and immediately felt like an idiotic teenage girl. Was he going to blush every time Heero said something nice to him?  
The waiter came back with their waters and Quatre’s wine. He took their orders and once again left them alone.  
“Why did you become a surgeon?” Quatre asked.  
Heero frowned slightly and Quatre could sense he had asked a sensitive question.  
“Sorry,” he apologized. “You don’t have to answer that.”  
“No, it’s fine,” Heero said. He shrugged. “I’d tell you eventually anyway, I suppose.” He drew in a deep breath. “When I was younger I was in a car accident. My parents died but I lived - I lived because of a heart transplant. The doctor who operated on my mother - he waited for me to wake up and he begged me to forgive him. He said he had done everything he could but he hadn’t been able to save her.” Heero shook his head. “He was the bravest man I’d ever met - to admit that kind of defeat to a child. I admired him, and I wanted to try to help… to try to keep other children from losing their parents.”  
Quatre swallowed hard, unsure what to say after such a heartfelt admission.  
“Sorry,” Heero sighed. “I’m too honest - or so I’ve been told.”  
“No, too honest is good,” Quatre assured him. “I like too honest.”  
One corner of Heero’s mouth tipped upwards and Quatre smiled back at him.  
The rest of dinner was comfortable. Heero wasn’t chatty, but he answered Quatre’s questions about himself and even asked Quatre about his bookstore and his dog, keeping the conversation innocuous.  
It was January, and as they walked towards their cars in the parking lot after dinner it started to snow.  
“I had a great time tonight,” Quatre said as they stopped at his car.  
Heero nodded in agreement.  
“I did too.”  
“What are you doing this weekend?” Quatre asked.  
“Working most nights,” Heero said with a sigh.  
Quatre wondered if he was trying to politely avoid going back out with him.  
“Lunch?” Heero offered and Quatre smiled.  
“I like lunch.” He immediately felt like a moron, but Heero chuckled.  
“So do I.”  
They stared at each other for a moment. Quatre wondered if he should kiss Heero - or if Heero would rather make the first move - or if this was even the right time?  
A snowflake landed on Heero’s nose and they both reached up to brush it away.  
Their fingers tangled together and Heero shifted his hand away from his face, still holding onto Quatre’s hand, and pulled him close.  
“Do you mind?” Heero asked.  
Quatre shook his head. Did he mind if Heero kissed him? That was like asking if he minded breathing. Unless that wasn’t actually what Heero was asking? What if -  
Heero’s lips were warm and firm and he lightly brushed them against Quatre’s mouth.   
Quatre shivered, from the cold, from the spark of arousal he felt that teasing touch, and he leaned in, kissing Heero back, pressing his lips firmly against the other man’s.  
Heero used his free hand to cradle Quatre’s skull, threading his fingers through his hair and angling his head back slightly.  
Quatre opened his mouth, eager to taste Heero, and Heero obliged, his tongue slightly hesitant until Quatre met it with his own.  
When they finally pulled apart they were both breathing hard and their faces were flushed with arousal and the cold night air.  
They stared at each other.  
“I should go,” Quatre eventually said, though he was reluctant to leave.   
Heero nodded.  
“Me too. I - I’ll call you? For lunch?”  
Quatre smiled.  
“Yes. That sounds perfect.”  
Heero smiled back and Quatre kissed him again, unable to resist the temptation to feel his lips one last time.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is not my fault. I didn’t want to write. I absolutely do NOT want to write a fic with Quatre Winner as the main character but… I have to.   
I figure, I might as well enjoy this and take this opportunity to use all those cliche romantic moments that I can’t really work into most of the things I write. So… be warned about those too.  
Warnings: Language, angst (I mean, duh), sexy times and sexy words  
Pairings: past 3x4, 2x3, 1x4

After Happily Ever After  
Chapter Five

In retrospect, cooking dinner had been a terrible plan.  
It was their seventh date, if Heero counted the three times they had met for coffee as well as their two dinner dates and the movie they had watched together on Netflix last week, talking over Skype while Heero imagined Quatre curled up in bed with Rashid, and Heero counted that as a date.  
Two nights ago, after dinner, Quatre had invited him over, joked about Rashid missing him and the blond had a look on his face somewhere between anxious and excited and Heero had said that he missed Rashid too. So he followed Quatre over to his house, driving his own car because he had a morning shift at the hospital and he wasn’t sure if Quatre wanted him to stay the night or what - but as soon as they walked into Quatre’s house, a cute two bedroom place right on the lake, Heero’s phone started to whine, that irritating tone Duo had programmed for him so he knew when the hospital was calling, when there was an emergency.  
So tonight, Heero had bribed a resident into making sure that Heero would not be called in if there was an emergency - he wasn’t the only trauma surgeon at the hospital, and he wasn’t even the only surgical fellow focused in trauma. That part of the plan had been solid, and Duo was at the hospital tonight anyway, so if something incredible came in that Heero would hate himself for missing, Duo would call him.  
Heero remembered that this was Duo’s go-to date when he wanted to make sure his partner would stay the night. But then, Duo could actually cook, he didn’t live on frozen meals and coffee and he didn’t consider baked macaroni and cheese a gourmet meal.  
So it had been a terrible idea, his plan to roast a chicken, and maybe he shouldn’t have brushed Duo off when his friend asked him what his plans for tonight were, because Duo probably would have told him this wouldn’t work.  
But Heero wasn’t all that keen on sharing details about his dates with Quatre with Duo. He didn’t want to broach that topic, didn’t want to have the awkward, guess who I’m dating? Your boyfriend’s ex-fiance. The one he left at the altar. Remember that day?  
Which meant that Quatre arrived promptly at seven, cheeks and nose red from the cold even though he was bundled up in a wool overcoat and scarf and his jeans looked thick, the blond wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air.  
“Is something burning?”  
“Shit.”  
Heero left Quatre on his doorstep and rushed into the kitchen.  
He opened the oven door and a flood of smoke poured out.  
“Open the window,” Quatre suggested, walking into the kitchen and gesturing to the window above the kitchen sink.  
Heero followed his suggestion, and he hoped the smoke would dissipate before -  
The fire alarm started to go off.  
Heero yanked a chair out from the dining room and used it to climb up and reach the smoke detector. He pulled the batteries out and then he stepped down from the chair, but he lost his balance and -  
Quatre caught him, helping him find his footing on the floor and offering a smile of amusement and commiseration.  
“Hi,” Quatre said, and his voice, his smile and his blue eyes made it easy to forget the disaster Heero had just created.  
“Hi,” he replied and he realized that Quatre still had one arm around him and he took advantage of that and leaned in to kiss him.  
Quatre kissed him back and it didn’t really matter anymore that the chicken was burnt.  
“I’m sure the chicken would have been great,” Quatre said when the kiss ended, “but I’m a fan of boxed macaroni and cheese too.”  
Heero had told Quatre about that, about how he sometimes took the time to boil water and make the boxed meal instead of just his usual frozen dinners and Quatre had laughed and sighed and admitted that he too wasn’t the best cook, that he too didn’t really take the time to make too many real meals, even though he usually had the time.  
“You’re sure?” Heero had to ask.  
Quatre nodded.  
“Yeah. You’ll have to make it up to me, of course,” he joked.  
“I will,” Heero promised.  
The boxed macaroni wasn’t complicated, but Quatre helped him with it, the two of them working together while Quatre asked Heero about his day and it was nice. It was easy, too, which surprised Heero.   
When they sat down at the dining room table, each with a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a glass of white wine, Quatre teased him a little about it, especially when Heero discovered he didn’t actually own wine glasses - apparently those had been Duo’s, and he had taken them when he moved in with Trowa a few months ago - so they had to drink the wine out of coffee mugs.   
“I’m sorry,” Heero had to say as they cleaned up after the meal, and he was confronted by the burnt husk of the roasted chicken sitting on the counter. “This wasn’t exactly the date I had planned.”  
Quatre shrugged and joined Heero at the sink, drying the dishes as he washed them.  
“I don’t mind. I’ve still had a great time. It’s not like I came over here for chicken, in any case.”  
Heero looked over at him, and Quatre held his gaze.   
He was smiling slightly, as though a little unsure, and maybe Heero didn’t have fantastic people skills, but he knew enough to at least recognize this opening for what it was and he took it.  
He turned off the water and backed Quatre up against the counter, until their bodies were pressed together and their noses touched.  
“I’m glad,” Heero said and he brushed his lips over Quatre’s. The blond shivered and then leaned into the kiss, opening his lips and his tongue teased against Heero’s mouth until Heero allowed him entrance.  
And then Heero was the one backed up, against the refrigerator, and Quatre’s hands were under his sweater, tracing over his skin and Heero groaned.   
He started to guide them out of the kitchen, hoping he didn’t back them into a table or something and end up breaking one of their legs.  
Quatre pulled away long enough to let Heero remove his sweater, and then Quatre tugged at the hem of Heero’s until Heero took that off as well.  
Their naked chests felt good together, Quatre’s skin smooth and firm under Heero’s hands and he had to reach out and brace them against a wall when Quatre sucked on his neck and Heero momentarily lost his balance.  
“Sorry,” Quatre chuckled.  
“No you’re not,” Heero replied and then moaned when Quatre bit down gently.   
It might leave a mark, and it would probably be visible considering the line of the scrubs he usually wore, and Duo would no doubt give him hell for it, but Heero really didn’t care.  
He reached for Quatre’s jeans, running his hands over Quatre’s ass and squeezing.  
“What do you want to do?” Heero asked as he manouvered them down the hall and towards his bedroom. “I have protection, but we don’t have to go that far, we can do whatever you want.”  
Quatre pulled him back in for a kiss and at the same time thrust his hips against Heero’s and grabbed his ass.  
“I want to go that far,” Quatre assured him.  
Heero had to smirk at that, at the way Quatre’s blond hair fell over his forehead and his lips were swollen from kissing Heero and Quatre smirked back, clearly enjoying the view just as much as Heero was, but then Quatre glanced behind Heero.  
His entire demeanour changed. His smirk went away and he released Heero, his posture transforming from one of excitement to one of devastation.  
Heero turned, wondering what Quatre had seen, and then -  
The photograph, from last summer. Duo had convinced Heero to go to the beach with him and Trowa for a week. It was only six months into their relationship, and Heero was still fairly uneasy around Trowa, but it had been a good week, and Duo, being Duo, had managed to get them invited to a clam bake at the house next to theirs and the photograph was from that night, the three of them standing by the ocean at sunset, looking tanned and happy and Duo was in the middle, with Heero on one side and Trowa on the other and even Trowa, who rarely showed much emotion, was smirking as he looked at Duo instead of the camera.  
“You know him?”  
Quatre’s voice sounded broken and Heero winced.  
He hadn’t thought to put away the photograph, he barely even remembered it was there most of the time, but Duo had given it to him, and it was one of the few photographs Heero had of himself smiling.  
“Yes,” Heero replied and he didn’t know which him Quatre was asking about, but it didn’t really matter.  
Quatre turned his gaze back to Heero and it looked like he was on the verge of tears.  
“Were you there that day?”


End file.
